


Home-Cooked Meal

by quartzguts



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Noct is a compassionate person,Ignis thinks as he watches him grab another brownie.I love him dearly. He understands how difficult my position is. He's not ungrateful.Or: for the first time in their lives, Ignis yells at Noctis.
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 7
Kudos: 162





	Home-Cooked Meal

**Author's Note:**

> i just wanted to write about ignis losing his cool

Ignis hums to himself as he chops up the celery. Once it's done, it'll go into the stew already simmering in the slow cooker he'd bought a week prior. He's been excited to try out this new recipe for ages, ever since he'd read yet another article on how to get fussy kids to eat vegetables. Although his situation is not precisely the same as the countless frustrated moms in the comments, it is somewhat difficult to get the crown prince of Lucis to eat his veggies. This stew, Ignis is sure, will help him in crossing that particular hurdle. With plenty of meat, potatoes, and spices to drown out the vegetables, Noct will no doubt eat it without complaint. The hot meal will also warm him up after a long afternoon out with Prompto (Ignis assumes. He’d waited outside the school for an hour before giving up and leaving); it's been getting colder recently, the autumn breeze slowly bringing in the tides of winter. It wouldn't do to let Noct catch a cold.

The door clicking open alerts Ignis to the prince's arrival. He prepares himself for the coming battle; he'd hoped to get the vegetables discretely chopped into fine bits and into the stew _before_ Noct got home, but he'd had three meetings to attend at the Citadel and a few pressing assignments that could _not_ be left for this evening, no matter the circumstances. As such, he's cooking a little late. Although it's only five in the afternoon, by the time the meal is done, it'll be past seven.

"How was your day?" he calls out, piling up the celery in the center of the cutting board. Noct grumbles out an answer he can't hear.

Ignis is just swiping the chopped celery into the slow cooker when Noct rounds the corner. He tosses his jacket carelessly on the floor, making Ignis's eyebrow twitch. One of the Councilmen had yelled at him a week ago after the tabloids circulated a candid photo of Noct wearing a wrinkled jacket. That wasn’t the draw of the article - it was the same old nonsense speculation about Noct having a girlfriend - but regardless, _messy_ isn’t an acceptable look for the prince. Ignis will have to pick the jacket up later and press it.

He waits passively as Noct dumps his backpack on the floor. The prince doesn't bother with a greeting, only a low whine of _Speeecs_ when he sees the carrot on the counter, still unchopped.

Perhaps Ignis should have cut it up earlier, but he was still debating whether or not it should go in. One carrot was highly unlikely to change the flavor of the stew, and Noct probably wouldn't notice it if he chopped it finely enough. Still, slipping vegetables into Noct's food for the sake of his nutrition is one thing; tricking him into eating something he hates is another.

Ignis sighs. Now that Noct has seen it, he has to back down. He has no other option that won't end in an entirely pointless argument. "Relax, Your Highness. I will not be putting it in."

"You'd better not," Noct says. He stomps back to his room without another word.

Ignis's eye twitches. He dutifully puts the carrot back in the fridge, despite his brain nagging him that _you love carrots and haven’t eaten them in months because Noct won’t let you use them to make dinner._ He adds a dash of paprika and salt to the stew, drops in a bit of basil, and stirs it all together. Satisfied with the smell, he sets the lid on and leaves it to cook. It'll be around two hours before it's ready, but Ignis is sure they can eat early if Noct wants to.

He desperately hopes Noct wants to eat early. He hadn't had time for lunch that day, and had only a granola bar for breakfast. He's starving.

He's busy washing down the cutting board - it's wood, so it has to be hand washed - when Noct wanders into the kitchen wearing sweatpants. Ignis glares at the loose, comfortable-looking clothing in jealousy. He can't afford to look less than perfect on any given day; the Council would have his head for such a break in decorum.

His glare edges up to Noct's face when he opens the cabinet and pulls out the box of premade, prepackaged brownies he'd bought a few days ago, against Ignis's recommendation. "Noct."

"C'mon, Iggs, the world's not going to explode if I have a brownie after school." He punctuates the words with an eye roll. It's times like these when Ignis can clearly see why Gladio calls him a _brat._

"You'll ruin your appetite," Ignis tries.

Noct snorts. "I will not."

He does. He eats two brownies, and only an hour later he cracks open a bag of chips. Ignis tries his polite, careful tone again, warning His Highness about too much sugar and salt, but this time Noct snaps _I don't care._

Ignis does, it’s literally his _job_ to care, but he supposes his feelings on the subject don't matter.

He knows he should be more patient. Noct has been having a difficult time of late; he's finally starting to accept what his reign will mean for his father, and Ignis is proud of him for it. It's a delicate time for Noct, and he has to support him through it, even if Gladio rolls his eyes at him for _coddling_ the prince. Noct needs gentle support right now. He needs an Ignis who will remind him of his health without scolding, who will help him through this without losing his temper. Who won’t get jealous over things Noct can’t control, like the fact that he’s allowed to be a broody teenager while Ignis isn’t.

Ignis is trying his best, but after years of flawless service, of going above and beyond the requirements of his job to drive Noct around, cook him dinner, and clean up his apartment, he feels a tad… unappreciated. Which is ridiculous, because of course Noct appreciates him. He has to understand the lengths to which Ignis goes for him. He must.

_Noct is a compassionate person,_ Ignis thinks as he watches him grab another brownie. _I love him dearly. He understands how difficult my position is. He's not ungrateful._

The two hours pass slowly as Ignis cleans the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, puts in a load of laundry, and takes out the trash. When the slow cooker beeps, Ignis removes the lid. A swirl of steam fills the kitchen, along with a hearty scent. Ignis tastes a bit for himself. His stomach growls.

Still, Noct comes first. Ignis serves him a bowl and calls out, "Noct, dinner is ready."

"Not hungry," Noct says from his place on the couch. He doesn't even look away from his game. Ignis recognizes it as one of his single player RPGs. He doesn't have teammates to let down. He could take a second to pause it and talk to Ignis face to face.

"You're not hungry because you had snacks when you got home," Ignis says.

Noct groans. He throws himself head first into a fight with something that looks like a malboro, mashing his buttons harshly. "Yeah, yeah, save the lecture, Specs. I've had a bad day."

Ignis doesn't doubt it, but he also wasn't trying to lecture. Noct is like this sometimes; he takes everything Ignis says as a criticism, even if Ignis is simply trying to bring something to his attention. "You have space for one bowl, I'm sure. Have you had anything nutritious today?"

"How is that any of your business? I said I'm not hungry," Noct snaps.

_You love him,_ Ignis reminds himself. _You would do anything for him._ "It took me two and a half hours to make this."

"That's not _that_ long, you drama queen."

Ignis snaps. The constant string of _he's had a bad day, go easy on him, you love him_ is drowned out by the thought that Ignis has _also_ had a bad day, had spent hours at the Citadel being hounded by Council members trying to trick him into agreeing that Noct is unsuitable for his position, dealt with several thinly veiled accusations that _he_ isn't good enough for _his_ job, was scolded by the royal physician because Noct hadn't shown up for his yearly check up, was scolded by Cor for being off his game in training, then had to suffer the indignity of telling His Majesty that Noct is still, despite his best efforts, refusing to read his reports on the Council meetings. And despite all of that, Ignis had come to Noct's apartment the moment he was done with work to make his prince dinner instead of getting something for himself.

And Noct hadn't even bothered asking how his day had been.

"Do you have any idea how much I do for you?" Ignis yells. The volume is unintentional, but it gets Noct's attention. He stares at Ignis, wide eyed, his character dying on the screen. "Or do you know, but just not care?"

"Of course I care," Noct says. His voice is wavering. "Iggy, of course I care about -"

"Really? Do you?" Ignis slams his hands down on the counter. Noct jumps at the noise. His palms are stinging, but he does it again as Noct's eyes drift back to the TV. "Because I don't think you do. I think you're a brat who doesn't understand how hard the people around you work so that _you_ can have a comfortable life."

" _Ignis_ -"

"I deal with obnoxious politicians in the Citadel all day, half of them hounding me about things _you_ have done, mind you, then come back here to make you dinner even though I'm exhausted and hungry, and you won't even _try it?_ Because it has vegetables in it and you'd rather eat mass produced crap?" Noct looks like a deer caught in headlights. His expression is one of such immense shock, Ignis doesn't think he's ever seen it on Noct's face before now. "For the gods' sakes, Noct, if you wanted brownies for dinner you could've just told me in advance! I would have made you fresh ones! I would do anything for you, do you understand? I'd move Eos itself for you, and all I'm asking for in return is that you just _eat this damned meal that I spent hours making!_ "

Noct stares. He looks like a fish, his mouth opening and closing with no words. Ignis's fury inexplicably rises. He makes a sound that's pure anger and frustration and slams his hands on the counter one last time. He unties his apron and throws it on the ground.

Noct doesn't get up to follow him as he storms out of the apartment. "I'll not be making dinner for you again. Kindly refrain from asking," he shouts, and slams the door.

Immediately once he's in the hallway it's easier to breathe. It's also easier to realize what, exactly, he's done. He's just said horrible things to the prince - _his_ prince, his _Noct_ \- things he has no excuse for. He'd called Noct a _brat._ Who is he, Gladio?

Ignis's hands start to shake. The hallway, all soft yellow lights and glossy wood casing, starts to collapse in on him. He has to go to King Regis right now and submit his resignation. He doesn't deserve to be at Noct's side after this. Noct needs someone better, someone who can resist the pull of their emotions. Someone who won't snap at him out of jealousy. Someone he can trust.

Ignis somehow makes it to the elevator, even though his stomach is churning and he feels light-headed, and jabs the down button. As he waits, anxiously watching the changing number on the screen as the elevator rises to Noct's floor, he thinks about possible replacements. He’d prefer it to be someone he already knows; he can accept his own unworthiness, yes, but that doesn't make him feel any more comfortable about leaving Noct in a stranger's care. Prompto doesn't have the necessary skills for the position. Iris is too young. Perhaps one of Noct's distant relatives could -

"Iggy!"

Ignis's breath escapes him. He turns around slowly, feeling like he’s underwater, and is almost immediately bombarded with an armful of _Noct._ His prince is crying, Ignis realizes in horror, breathing in full body sobs while tears fall over his cheeks. Ignis instinctively wraps his arms tightly around him. Noct sways on his feet, and Ignis doesn’t think he can steady both of them, so he lowers them to the floor.

"I'm so sorry," Noct sobs. "I'm so sorry, please don't go, Iggy, please don't leave me."

"It's alright, Noct," Ignis says frantically. He doesn't know if he deserves to touch Noct now, after what he's said, but Noct isn’t objecting to the hands in his hair. He keeps petting him. "It'll be alright, please calm yourself."

"I'll do better," Noct says. "I'll - I won't complain anymore. I'll do everything you ask me to do. I just… I'm sorry, I know you shouldn't have to take care of me all the time. I… I should try harder. I _will_ try harder. So please don't leave."

"I take care of you because I want to," Ignis says. He can feel an itchiness tingling behind his eyes. If he was younger and less used to reigning in his emotions, it might have turned into tears. "I was upset about other things and took it out on you. Please accept my apologies, Noctis."

Noct sniffles. Ignis can't help himself from wiping the tear tracks off of his cheeks. "But that's how you really feel, isn't it? That I've been taking advantage of you."

"You have not. It is my job and my honor to help you -"

"I'm seventeen, Iggy! I should be able to clean my apartment and make my own food from time to time. I - shit." He collapses onto Ignis's shoulder with another dry sob. Ignis knows he should not be allowing Noct to practically sit in his lap on the floor of the hallway, where they will be recorded by security cameras for later scrutiny by the guards, but he can’t find it within himself to deny his prince. He slides his hands through Noct's hair again.

"It's alright, Noct. The blame is entirely mine. You've done nothing wrong."

"I have, though," he says. "You're right. I'm an ungrateful brat. But I'm going to start doing better, I promise. I can't keep letting you do this to yourself for my sake."

Ignis's first priority should be to rectify the awful assumption Noct is under - that Ignis thinks he's a brat - but the last sentence has him pausing. "Do what to myself, precisely?"

"Do you think I don't notice?" Noct mumbles into Ignis’s shoulder. "You come home late, you always look tired, you work constantly. You don't eat. You've been running yourself ragged for me, and I've just let it happen, because I didn't know how to deal with it." Ignis doesn't retaliate. He has nothing to say in his own defense; Noct is right. "How can I help you?"

Ignis doesn't know what to say to that. He's never entertained the idea of Noct helping _him._ It's supposed to work the other way around. “You don’t have to worry about doing such a thing. As I said, this is -”

“Ugh, shut up!” Noct cringes at the harshness of his own words. “I mean - crap. I didn’t… I just… Look, for you to be so stressed out that you actually lost your cool like that, it must be getting bad, right? Like, what _happened?_ ”

Ignis hesitates. Noct deserves honestly, but the shame of the truth is nearly overwhelming. He swallows the lump in his throat. “I’ve been… overstretching myself, I suppose. In many ways, I feel trapped. I must be perfect to earn my keep at your side. But sometimes I wish I could…”

“Be a normal teenager?” Noct says with a shaky smile.

“Yes. You’ve hit the nail on the head, so to speak. I’m a tad jealous of you in that regard.” Ignis clears his throat. It feels wrong, to be so open about his feelings with Noct. He’s supposed to be a rock for Noct to lean on, not this… fragile thing. “You have more freedom than me, even if it may look otherwise.”

“I believe it. You’ve got it rough - that’s exactly why I want to help you. What can I do, Iggy?”

Ignis tries to think. He’s mostly drawing a blank, but… "I would appreciate it if you ate dinner."

"Yeah," Noct sighs. "I can do that. I know you worked hard on it."

"...and if you could clean at least a little every day," Ignis says. "Put trash in the trash can, clean up spills in the kitchen, put away your dirty clothes. Could you manage your laundry, too?"

Noct blushes. "Um. How do you use the washing machine, again?"

"I'll show you," Ignis says. "I'd also appreciate a heads up when you plan to go out with Prompto in the afternoons. I can't afford to wait for you at the school if you're not going to show up." The elevator door dings. Ignis jolts at it. He hadn't even noticed it arriving; now it's closing its doors, heading back down. "I'd also like to drive you, if possible. I don't like the idea of you and Prompto being out in the city alone. It could be dangerous."

"Okay," Noct says. "I can do all that."

Ignis doesn't want to add more to the growing pile, but he might as well say it while Noct is willing to listen. "It also reflects poorly on me when you neglect to read the reports I prepare for you and fail to attend meetings with the Council."

Noct winces. "I've been getting you in trouble for that?"

"Indeed."

"That's not fair. Those are my faults, not yours."

"It is my responsibility to ensure you are performing all your royal duties. Besides, the Council cannot exactly get mad at you to your face. You're the prince."

"I wish I wasn't," Noct admits quietly. "You'd be a better prince than me, Speccy."

Noct has not used that variation of his nickname since they were both children. The sound of it warms Ignis’s heart. "Oh, Noct. You're doing just fine."

"If I'm doing fine it's only 'cause of you." Noct snuggles closer. "I'm sorry."

"As am I."

Noct murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like _you don't have anything to be sorry for_ , but Ignis can't find it in himself to argue when Noct is still shaking in his arms. He cuddles Noct close and shuts his eyes, remembering days from their childhood when affection came easier, before the marilith and then the pain of growing up split them apart. He pretends they're five and six again, tiny and happy, and it's acceptable for him to let Noct be this close.

Eventually, when Noct's breathing evens out and Ignis's heart rate returns to normal, he can no longer justify their closeness. "Alright, let's get up. It's past time you ate dinner."

"You, too. I can hear your stomach growling."

Ignis blushes at that. He helps Noct disentangle himself, then pulls him to his feet. He's about to start heading down the hallway when Ignis grabs his hand. "There's one more thing."

"Yeah?" Noct says warily, and Ignis winces, because he knows he's asked far too much of Noct already.

"You are not an ungrateful brat."

Noct snorts. "Yeah I am. Gladio says it all the time."

"Yes, well, Gladio says it in an affectionate way."

Noct shakes his head. "He doesn't. He means it."

"That's not true," Ignis insists. When Noct tries to protest, he presses a hand over his mouth. "It isn't. Now listen to me. I need you to say it - say _I am not an ungrateful brat._ "

"This is stupid -"

" _Noct_."

"Fine." Noct pouts. It's an adorable, youthful expression, one Ignis has not seen in far too long. "I am not an ungrateful brat."

It won't be enough to undo the damage Ignis has done just yet, but maybe after a few months of saying it, Noct will start to believe it. "Good. Now, let's eat."

Thanks to the slow cooker's warm setting, the stew is still hot when they get back to Noct's apartment. Noct's bowl is cold, so Ignis puts it in the microwave and serves him a new one. Fresh or not, he'd like to limit the amount of microwaved food Noct eats as much as possible.

Noct's face lights up when he takes a bite. Ignis lets his pride swell when Noct quickly takes another spoonful, licking his lips.

"This is good," he says. "This really has celery in it?"

"I found a recipe that is specifically meant to reduce the taste of the vegetables and emphasize the meat," Ignis says.

"Oh." Noct bites his lip as he looks up. "Well, thanks."

"You're most welcome."

Noct has three servings before they're done eating. Ignis is so in awe of the Lucis Caelum family metabolism that he almost doesn't notice how Noct helps him spoon the remaining stew into a tupperware container and organize the dishes in the dishwasher. By the time the kitchen is clean, the sky outside has opened up, and a soft rain patters on the roof of Noct's top floor apartment. Ignis sets his laptop bag on the kitchen table and opens it, ready to organize his notes from the Council meetings that day.

Noct grabs him and pulls him over to the couch in the living room. Ignis murmurs a protest, but lets Noct shove him down on the couch and cuddle up to him. The rain continues to splash against the balcony doors. Ignis runs a hand through Noct's hair. The tension from earlier still hangs over them like a knife, but for the first time that evening Ignis is sure they can make it through unscathed.

"Hey," Noct says. "Did you mean what you said earlier?"

"Noct," Ignis sighs. "Please understand. I was speaking out of anger. I didn't mean anything I said to you."

"No, I didn't mean that stuff. Just, like." He clears his throat. He sounds uncharacteristically sheepish. "Would you actually bake brownies for dinner if I asked?"

Ignis stares at him. Then he snorts. Then he _laughs._ "Oh, _Noct._ "

Noct blushes cherry red. "Come on, Specs! Don't laugh!"

Ignis has to, though. By the gods, he has to. He squeezes Noct around his middle. "Naturally, Your Highness, I will make any dinner you desire."

"I'm only asking because Prompto likes your baking! That's it, really!"

"Well then, invite Prompto over and I’ll treat the two of you to my finest brownie recipe.”

“Really?” Noct says. His eyes sparkle. Ignis is entranced. “That’s - crap, I forgot. Prom’s got this really stupid diet. He won’t eat anything he can’t convince himself is ‘healthy.’”

“I believe I have a recipe that includes dried fruit and nuts,” Ignis says.

“You’re the best, Specs.” And the way Noct looks at him - it’s electric. Ignis’s gaze trails over his stormy blue eyes, down to his soft lips, and thinks _I could lean in right now and_ -

He clears his throat. Best to leave those thoughts in the dark. “I try.”


End file.
